Seated within the Glorious Jewel of the Hutts, the Winter Palace is situated on a remote island near the planet’s equator. Although blanketed with the pollution from Hutt industry, its location makes the climate hot and humid. Surrounded with trees and vines, it could be considered to be a paradise, even among the barren wasteland of Nal Hutta. Outside of the Winter Palace, a network of sewer pipes transfer the waste from the palace to wherever seems far enough to dump into the oceans surrounding the island. Flora and fauna that have adapted to the Hutt’s environmental changes thrive in the polluted forests surrounding the Winter Palace.

Stepping through its gilded gates, the lavish interior greets your presence with the main audience chamber. Once belonging to the wealth of Jiliac Desilijic Tiron, the gleaming stone of the main aisle leads up to a Hutt’s dais lined with an expensive carpet. Beautiful tapestries line the high walls, telling of the sordid histories of those who woven them, awaiting execution in Jiliac’s dungeons.

Finally, the antechamber to the throne room is illuminated from above with high-skylighted ceilings. Constructed from lightly colored stone, the antechamber might have been where the late Hutt entertained his guests before an audience with spice and exotic dancers. In the hands of the Hutt Kajidics, however, these traditions have continued as the Winter Palace now serves as a front for criminal and business ventures.

Nal Hutta

Winter Palace

Court of Gorga Desilijic Aarrpo

The smell of carababba tabac filled the throne room of the Palace, Gorga and many of his court partaking in the abundance of the distinctive tabac currently available to the Market. Two figures moved swiftly through the clouds of smoke, passing the dancers, sycophants and Gamorrean guards residing throughout them. As eyes settled on the robes of the Grand Inquisitor and his companion, conversations lulled, dancers missed their step, and people moved aside.

Music filled the entire hall as the Hutt’s holiday celebrations continued well into the seventh day, the banquet laid outimpressive even for the Desilijic Cartel. The two cloaked figures came to stand before the dais of the Hutt, and Gorga and his companions’ conversation stopped as the Hutt took notice of the intrusion.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion, Inquisitor?” Gorga’s eyes squinted slightly, one peering peering through his monocle at the robed figure standing before him.

“I have come to retrieve my merchandise, ya? I assume everything is in order?” Furred hands lifted to pull back the hood of the Inquisitor’s robes, and gray eyes stared back at the Hutt unflinchingly. The Ryn maintained his composure as the entire room turned to watch him, the Ryn’s natural ability as a performer giving him a far more intimidating presence than would be expected.

“There will be no business. My celebrations do not end for some time to come. Enjoy the festivities and return at the time I instructed.” The massive form of the Hutt took a long draw from the hookah placed before him, the creature's massive lungs filling the surrounding space as he exhaled lazily. His posture dismissed the interruption as he returned to the prior conversation, the bluster of the party resuming at a motion from his arm.

”Nah, nah, nah. I do not intend to waste time any longer than necessary. You will provide what I purchased and then you can return to your celebration.” A hush fell over the room at the implied threat. Though surrounded by the Hutt’s guards, the reputation of the Grand Master’s Inquisitors had spread quickly, and the company of one such figure was enough to unsettle even a being as politically powerful as Gorga.

The Hutt coughed out another belch of smoke as he regarded the Ryn, his eyes shifting to the Inquisitor’s hooded companion. The figure stood motionless, wrapped in gold and black, the long sleeves of his jacket covering his hands from view, his features obscured within the dark hood. A bodyguard for the Inquisitor? Gorga’s thoughts wandered for a moment before swiveling back to the impertinent figure before him.

”Very well. Bring them!” The Hutt’s motion brought the sound of shuffling feet and chains as a large group of slaves were led out, the majority of them emaciated and covered in filth. Their shackles ran from throat to wrist and ankles. Kordath nodded to the Hutt as the group was brought to stand before him, his eyes taking in each of the slaves in turn until he recognized the individual he was looking for. Craden Vanar’s eyes remained downcast — the Human looked like he’d suffered multiple beatings, his arms, chest and face covered in bruises and lacerations.

“What is it that makes this lot worth your while, Inquisitor? And to dare disrupt our celebrations for this group?” Gorga’s massive tongue slid across his lips as he watched, the Hutt’s mind working through every angle of how to make the Inquisitor pay for disturbing him.

“None of your concern, mate, I have the amount we agreed on waitin’ to be transferred.” Kordath motioned to his companion who began crossing the distance to the slaves.

”Hah hah hah... No, Inquisitor, we will negotiate a new amount for this group. If you truly want them, then you will pay for your impertinence.” A group of Gamorrean guards stepped forward to block the path to the waiting slaves. The hooded man tensed as if readying himself, stopping as he was intercepted, glancing back and awaiting instructions.

Gray eyes flicked to the Hutt, a momentary break of character as the Ryn addressed the Crime Lord. “Not…a good idea mate.” Gorga felt the first rumble of fear pass through him as he realized the Ryn’s concern was not for the hooded man — rather, it was due to him.

If Uji was worried about the half dozen Gamorreans moving to meet him, he didn’t let it show. Armed with an array of vibro-axes and bulky, poorly made blasters, the guards snorted and squealed as they began to encircle the Human. The Shadow stopped as the last of the smelly pig men surrounded him, cocking his head slightly within his hood. Eyes closed, he wrapped a hand around his intricate saber hilt and let out a long breath as the first of the guards moved to attack. The brilliant white blade of his weapon flashed across the Gamorrean’s sight, blinding the surprised alien. As his vision cleared he saw the top half of his axe on the floor, holding now just a haft with a melted end.

“Told ya this wouldn’t end well for ya, Gorga,” spoke Bleu with a shake of the head. The Inquisitor watched his friend parry a few shots from the Hutt’s guards. Even when one of the thugs tried to put a blaster bolt in the Arconan’s back, he simply stepped aside and let the bolt streak harmlessly by. “Though this wasn’t unexpected, heh.”

The Ryn felt the Hutt’s eyes on him, having been watching the ensuing melee. “Ya know why they sent me to talk to ya, Gorga? I got a bit of experience with Hutts. None as powerful or as well known as you, of course,” stated Kordath, trying not to sound too patronizing. “Now, we had a deal, we did. You and our, uh, organization. Now ya want to go and change tha deal? Not a big surprise. Usual stuff for your lot, part of doin’ business with a Hutt, that’s fine. They sent me because they knew you’d try and swindle us, and I brought him,” the Inquisitor nodded his head towards the nearby fight, “because I knew you’d pull this.”

He could sense a rise in amusement from the Hutt and recalled the offer of festivities from earlier. Glancing at the combat going on for a moment, Kordath turned and waved to one of Gorga’s servants. More likely a slave, he reflected as the teal-skinned Twi’lek woman approached timidly. Leaning in, he whispered a few things to her before patting her on the bottom to send her along.

“I do apologize for interrupting your party, of course. Though it looks a lot more lively now than when we got here.” Kordath grinned at the Hutt, who narrowed its bulbous eyes at him. A pair of servants scurried up behind the Ryn to deposit a low arm chair, which he sat down in. The Twi’lek appeared alongside him as if she were conjured, putting a mug of frothy ale in his hand. “So, let’s talk business. You want to charge us even more for this lot?”

”You and your friend have disrupted my party. You are arrogant and loud, demanding and annoying. For these affronts, yes, you will pay more.”

“Well now, that’s not fair, mate, I mean — oh, one moment,” stated the Ryn, leaning back in his chair. A heartbeat later a blaster bolt flashed past his head, deflected from the melee. “Right, where was I? Ah, yeah. We already agreed to pay over market value on this lot, didn’t we, Gorga? A ‘holding fee’ it was, yeah? A bloody third over the regular price, all so you’d keep ‘em till we could get ‘em. That’s fair, innit?”

Bleu lifted both feet off of the floor as a Gamorrean slid, groaning, across the slick tiles on its back. Crossing his ankles, Kordath settled his boots on the unconscious guard’s form.

“Business, that’s what this is supposed to be about, right?”

”You’ll pay the new price, Rodent, or you’ll go home empty-handed.”

“Oh? Really? That’ll do ya well, Gorga. I mean, a Hutt is known to be a thief, a cheat, and a swindler, sure, and you lot are good at it, don’t get me wrong. I meant all of that as a compliment, I did. Now, going back on a deal, instead of negotiating? That’s makin’ yourself out ta be a bad businessman. Ya wanna be known as that, Gorga? I’m surprised. Hit to yer reputation like that is hard to shake off in this line of work. Ya want to drop the deal entirely? Sure, I’ll go back to my organization and tell ‘em you don’t wanna do business with us. That means a mar on your rep and no repeat business with us. Sounds kinda like a lose-lose situation.”

”You coming to a point, Ryn?” growled the Hutt.

The sounds of combat were dying down as Uji slammed the hilt of his saber into a guard’s forehead, dropping the Gamorrean like a sack of lard. He turned to the last of the pig men, flourishing his lightsaber at the thug. It threw up its hands, dropping the blaster pistol it had and squealed, running away. The Shadow shut his weapon down, turning to look at the Hutt and the Ryn.

“My point,” stated Kordath, grinning as he spoke. “Let’s make a wager instead of renegotiatin’ the deal, eh? You win, we’ll talk numbers, fine. We win, you sell us the slaves at market value, we all walk away happy. What da ya say?”

Gorga sat in contemplation for long moments. ”What is the bet, then, Ryn?”

“Your biggest, baddest guy, against mine.” Kordath grinned, lifting the cup of ale and taking a drink.

The Hutt shook with laughter, licking its slimy lips in amusement. ”HO HO HO, MORGO!” the crimelord shouted, his voice booming through the palace throne room.

“The kark is a Morgo?” muttered Kordath, looking around. The largest Nikto the Ryn had ever seen walked in from a back room, the massive, muscled man having to duck to get through the door. Twin bandoleers filled with knives crossed his broad chest, blaster pistols holstered on each hip. More distressing was the electro staff the warrior carried, well longer than Kordath was tall. “Oh, that’s a Morgo. Well. Uhh. Uji, mate. You’re up again.”

“Really?” Uji cocked an eyebrow at his companion, sarcasm thick in his voice. The Ryn shrugged, holding back a laugh. The former Obelisk turned to face Morgo, left with only a second to respond as Gorga grunted for them to begin. The Nikto drew both blasters in a flash, a volley of crimson bolts flashing towards Uji. The brilliant white of his lightsaber blossomed to life, illuminating him as his body moved more by instinct than intent.

The first shot met with the lightsaber, batted back in the direction of the shooter but missing the target. Uji began progressing forward, dodging the incoming shots, his movements as if he knew where each shot was going to be before it left the barrel. As he advanced, he held his saber tightly in his dominant hand, redirecting the bolts back whenever possible as he closed the distance between him and the Hutt’s prize fighter.

Shouts and screams echoed throughout the chamber as those near to the dual sought cover to flee the ensuing stray shots and get out of the way of the two combatants. Uji heard a familiar voice as he batted aside another round — Kordath leaned back as the stray shot flew past him, his drink nearly spilling as he balanced precariously to right his chair.

Uji watched as Morgo finally threw aside the two blasters as he realized the Jedi was getting too close, its reptilian hand reaching back to close on his shock-staff. Uji lept to close the distance, his saber coming down in a two-handed blow meant to split his opposition in half. He was met by an elaborate and surprisingly graceful flourish from the alien, the electrified end of the shock-staff knocking his blow aside.

The two began a back and forth display of prowess, Uji’s strikes hammering against Morgo’s defenses. The Aedile let the Force flow into each strike, enhancing his own strength to match the raw power the Nikto brought to bear. The two wove throughout the Hutt’s throne room, knocking tables aside and forcing the remaining crowd to part around them as they battered at one another, neither backing down, forcing themselves to strike faster, attempting to overtake the other.

Uji’s attacks struck to throw Morgo off balance, but the Nikto’s talent with the staff allowed him to recover after each time they connected, using both sides of the weapon to keep the Dark Jedi at a distance. Minutes passed as the two warriors fought, pressing their limits with neither able to strike a definitive blow to end the match.

Though the Nikto couldn’t sweat in the same fashion as a Human, Uji knew when the mundane began to tire. The Force continued to sustain the Dark Jedi, his breathing rapid but stable, his muscles restoring themselves as they grew tired. His opponent, however, had no reservoir or talent to pull on, and as the fight continued to draw out, Morgo began to slow, relying more on avoidance than defense.

Controlling the tempo and flow of the fight became easier. Uji avoided the killing blow, instead guiding his adversary precisely where he wanted him. As they came to stand before the group of slaves, the Nikto’s back to them, Uji timed a series of precise strikes, his final blow sundering the shock-staff down the center, the two pieces falling away uselessly as they shorted out.

Lashing out with a closed fist, Uji felt the large alien crumple to its knees. A moment later, the Aedile held the pale white blade to the throat of the fallen warrior, turning to face Kordath and the Hutt, Gorga.

“How many more before you take the hint?” Uji’s shouted out as he stared at the Hutt, his voice held steady despite the exhaustion of the dual setting in and his adrenaline faltering. Despite the pain, he held the saber even, never wavering in the slightest as he held the Hutt’s prized champion a hair's breadth from death.

Kordath rose from his chair, dusting the front of his robes off and smiling to the room that remained silent except for the groans of pain from the Gamorrean guard and a few guests injured in the crossfire. Turning throughout the room, the Ryn finally came back to settle his gaze on the crimelord, taking a small bow before he spoke.

“I believe ya owe us a batch of slaves, at market value, glorious Gorga,” spoke the Ryn, attempting to keep the smugness of his voice at a minimum.

The bloated form of the Hutt glowered at Kordath, crusty eyes flitting over to Uji who moved to stand beside the other Arconan. “You won this wager,” rumbled the crimelord. With a gesture from Gorga a droid stepped forward, datapad in hand which was held out to the pair. Kordath took it, glancing over the figures and punching in an account number and authorizing the transfer of funds. He tossed it back at the droid with a little grin.

“Gather the merchandise,” he said, over his shoulder to Uji, who gave him the barest of ‘really?’ looks before turning to the shipment of slaves. As the Aedile began to chivvy and shepard them out, Kordath turned and bowed to Gorga. “Mighty Gorga, I, and my organization, thank you for this transaction, and the honor you do us by dealin’ with us at all.”

Gorga shook for a moment, likely in anger, before settling himself, ”I look forward to our next meeting, Ryn.”

’I’m sure you bloody well do,’ thought Bleu as he followed the slaves out. Uji waved them along as they marched in line, chains linking the group together.

When Kordath caught up with his mate, the warrior leaned towards him and spoke, “That went well enough, at the end. We just need to get them off planet.”

“Hah,” replied the Rollmaster, “the Hutt will give it one more go before we’re aboard the ship, just wait. Token effort, but he’s gotta do it, part of the dealin’ with ‘em.”

“Seriously? I trashed most of his guards and his big mook of a champion, what would he even have left?”

“Somebody who owes him a debt, somebody out of favor, no worries, mate.” Kordath gave Uji a lopsided grin and a slap on his back as they escorted the line of beaten and tired looking slaves to a landing pad. A transport ship with subtle markings awaited, a loan from the Clan. As they ushered the first slaves aboard, as if on cue to the Ryn, a pair of Rodians stepped out from behind a fueling pump set to the side of the pad. “Told ya,” he whispered to his ally, waving him off. “I’ll deal with these two, get them aboard, fill Craden in on that offer of work. Let the rest know we’ll let ‘em go with a few credits when we get back to Selen, they can always find work there.”

“They say he’s a skilled merc, we’ll see,” replied the Human, nodding and getting the last few slaves aboard. Kordath turned to face the approaching Rodians.

”You owe Gorga some money, fuzzball,” spoke the apparent leader of the pair in Huttese.

Bleu shook his head, glancing at the blaster pistols the two were holding, “We’re paid in full, pal, how bout ya get out o’ here.”

”Credits, you pay, we leave!”

The Arconan narrowed his eyes at the pair, their pistols not yet trained on him. Drawing in a breath he lifted both of his hands, showing his lack of weapons or intent to attack them. With the Force flowing through him, he gave a gentle wave of his hands and spoke slow and firm.

“We’re paid up. Leave us, leave the planet and forget about us.”

One of the Rodian’s shook his head in confusion.

“Leave us, and forget about us,” the Arconan spoke again, reinforcing his words with the Force. The pair glanced at one another before turning and walking away. Kordath watched as they left, backing his way to the ship’s ramp, before running up it and hitting the close button. “Let’s get off this smelly, Force-forsaken planet!” he shouted to the fore of the vessel. “Dealt with them?”

“Dealt with ‘em.”

“Where are we getting credits to pay this lot when we get back to Selen, by the way?”

Kordath stiffened up for a moment, before giving his friend a weak grin. “Ya know that mark up I got Gorga to let go, the one ya fought the big guy for?”

“Yeah,” replied Uji, narrowing his eyes at the Rollmaster.

“Sooo, suppose I’d told the Consul to expect the Hutt to gouge us, but I dinnae tell her I’d get us out of it?”

“So the extra credits, the one’s I had to fight a giant Nikto so that we wouldn’t have to pay. You’re gonna give those to the slaves?”

Kordath glared at him, turning serious. “Ya know how I feel about slavers in general, mate. Besides, we both know the Shadow Lady would approve, even if she could nae do it openly. Just point most of ‘em at the military recruitment offices, who knows, maybe there’s a few more soldier types like this Craden in the group.”

“Fair enough,” sighed the Human, “but you get to tell her what happened to the money.”

“Grand.”